God Bless Allura
by Don'tCallMeStraightOrCis
Summary: Keith is fucked. Lotor is getting worrying close to Lance, and unless he confesses now, he might never get another chance. But there's a slight issue. Keith doesn't know how to confess. Thank god for Allura, and Shiro too.


Keith glared at the pen and paper like they had personally offended him just by existing. Now and then he'd let out a huff, or pick the pen up and twirl it about, before practically throwing it back onto the table.

To anyone passing by the living room window, it would have looked an odd sight, and even in context the situation was still strange. Especially since Keith had been doing that for the last five minutes.

Eventually though, he seemingly gave up. He groaned loudly, kicked himself away from the table and stormed away, leaving the pen and paper behind him. Unfortunately for him, he didn't get far. Just before he could reach the kitchen where some of Hunk's amazing cookies were, an arm stopped him.

He bumped against it and groaned loudly, glaring up at the owner of the arm.

"What, Shiro?" Keith snapped.

Shiro just raised an eyebrow, arm still raised.

"That page is empty," he said.

"And?"

"It's meant to be full."

"But can't fucking think of anything to say!" Keith yelled.

"Language," Shiro childed, "And why? You managed to spend half an hour gushing to me about him yesterday."

Keith crossed his arms and blushed, cursing Shiro and his good memory under his breath. Why the fuck was he doing this again?

He saw his phone on the kitchen tabletop that was just out of his reach and frowned. Oh right. Because according to Hunk, his crush (god did he hate admitting that, even if he did love the word 'crush') had another admirer who was getting worrying close. And Keith would rather stab Shiro (sorry Shiro) than let Lotor swoop in and steal Lance's heart. Lotor was nothing but a sadistic heartbreaker, and Keith would not let him break Lance. But since Lance would absolutely not accept the thought that 'kind, funny, sweet' Lotor could be so cruel, Keith felt as though he had only one option; confess. If he didn't now, his chance might slip away through his fingers like sand, and he could be forever stuck loving a boy (a beautiful, wonderful, idiotic genius of a boy) who didn't love him back.

"That's different."

Shiro put his arm down, and jutted out his hip, looking like your average suburban mother. If Keith didn't have the urge to punch that hip, then he probably would have laughed.

"Different how? Come on, isn't this easier? You don't even have to talk to anyone this time."

"It was different because... because... because..."

Keith didn't know why it was difficult, and growled as he tugged at his hair, trying to figure out why it was different this time. Why was it different? Why had he been able to do it then, but not now? When it was so much more important?

"Maybe," Shiro said in a calm voice, "It was because you had spent the day together, so those thoughts were fresh in your mind?"

It sounded as good as any excuse for Keith, so he happily accepted it. But he still wasn't happy. Fuck Lotor, fuck that fucking asshole for ruining everything. He had been doing so good, getting so close to Lance, and then that colossal asshat had swooped in and ruined everything with his 'long, beautiful' hair and 'perfect shiny' teeth and-

"What's the point anyway?" Keith huffed. "Lance doesn't like me back."

Shiro took a step forward, and hugged Keith tightly, not at all put off by how one-sided it was. He hated seeing Keith go through this, and prayed to any god that would listen for the death of Lotor.

"You don't know that," Shiro said softly, "He could like you back."

"Stop lying to make me feel better."

"I'm not, I-"

The doorbell rang, ruining the moment. Then it rang again, and again, and again. And then there was a knock.

Keith froze.

There was only one person who did that, who went to so much effort as to create a specialised knock for every one of his friend's houses: Lance.

"Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck-"

Keith ran into the living room, chucking the pen and paper into the dark depths of the world behind the sofa and before frantically running to the door and opening the door.

Sure enough, there was Lance on the doorstep, looking like a teenage dream.

His lips were pulled into a soft smile, and he appeared to have gone natural for once, as there was no makeup hiding his freckles that covered his skin, like stars in the night sky. And his hair hadn't been straightened, left to do as it pleased, which was curling into soft, adorable curls.

Keith clenched his fist, fighting the urge to sit Lance down in his lap so he could run his fingers through those curls and see if they were as soft as they looked.

His slim, never-ending bronze legs were shown off thanks to the short he wore, and the crop top revealed a muscled stomach. His hands - with nails expertly painted a pretty sky-blue - played with the fidget cube Keith had bought him for his last birthday.

Then there came the best and the worst thing: Lance's eyes. His eyes - those gorgeous blue eyes that looked like an endless ocean that Keith would happily get lost in and drown in - looked up at him through long, thick eyelashes, and Keith gulped.

"Lance. Hi."

He fought the urge to slap himself for such a stupid greeting. Lance however just chuckled, his voice - gentle and calming like a wave pushing pretty shells up on the shore for excited children to find - making Keith's heart skipped a beat.

"Hi, Keith... can I come in."

"I guess."

Keith winced at the wording as he let Lance in, but for once, Lance made no comment. That was worrying, he thought as they sat down on the couch.

"...Are you okay Lance?"

"I don't know," he laughed, "Yes? No?"

Keith frowned wishing, not for the first or last time, that people wouldn't talk in stupid riddles that made no sense.

"And for those of who aren't Bilbo Baggins-" whenever he saw Lance's natural hair, he couldn't help but think of a hobbit "-what does that mean?"

"Lotor asked me out."

For a second, Keith's world jerked to a halt. Lotor had asked Lance out. Keith's chance was gone. He was stupid for even thinking he had a chance.

"Good for you," he spat.

Lance frowned.

"I didn't say yes."

Keith's world jerked again, once again moving like it should, leaving him him breathless. Lance had said no, so he did have a chance. And a perfect opportunity right in front of him

"W-Why? I thought you liked him? A lot?"

"He was handsome and funny and flirted back with me, but I didn't like him that much," he shrugged, "I still probably would have said yes though, if it weren't for Allura."

God bless Allura, Keith thought, she was going to get the best fucking birthday present ever this year.

"What did she say?"

"All the shit Lotor had done," he laughed bitterly, "Which is why I came here; I wanted to say sorry for not listening to you... you were right."

Keith loved being right, but at the expense of Lance's happiness, the victory tasted bitter.

"Don't. You didn't know."

"Still, I should have-"

"Shut up."

Lance opened his mouth to complain, but apparently thought better of it and kept quiet. Meanwhile, Keith was trying to work out just how hell he was going to get those words out to Lance. If only he could remember all of what he said to Shiro-

"Wait here."

He got up and ran to the kitchen, ignoring Lance's cry of "what the fuck man, why?". He grabbed his phone and poked Shiro - who just so happened to be hovering close to the door - in the back.

"Yes?" Shiro asked.

"You remember everything I said to you about Lance?"

"Most of it."

"Text it to me."

"What, Keith-"

"Just do it!"

Shiro lips quirked into a smirk, but he nodded.

"Okay Shia LaBeouf, I'll do it. But why?"

Keith didn't reply, he was already running back into the living to a pissed off Lance.

His heart thumped wildly in his chest, threatening to escape, and his hands were so clammy that he was worried he'd drop it despite the death-grip he had on it.

He was going to do it. He was going to confess to Lance McClain.

"Okay, what's going on?" Lance asked. He frowned, looking a little worried. "Dude, you look like you're about to faint. Are you okay?"

"T-There's something I need to tell you. Lance."

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"I will be if you let me fucking speak!"

Lance put his hands up in mock-defeat, but kept silent. He had no idea what the hell was going on, but it seemed serious. He just hoped it wasn't anything too bad.

Keith took a deep breath, nearly jumping when he got the first text. God, had he really said that?

"L-Lance McClain, you are the most annoyingly-"

"Hey!"

"-beautiful person I've ever met. Inside and out."

Keith licked his lips, waiting for the next message. Lance hadn't walked out yet, he mused, that's good right?

"Your stupid smile always makes me feel better, and I would happily get lost in your eyes any day of the week. I can't count the amount of times I've got distracted by looking at you because of just how fucking beautiful you are. And those legs, fuck those legs have made me walk into one-too-many doors. And you always know how to cheer me up and calm me down, well most of the time. You're competitive as fuck, but whenever you win you look so happy and smug and gorgeous as fuck, so it's worth it."

After the third text, Keith got into the rhythm so to speak. He could pretend that Lance wasn't here, that these words weren't his, and that he was just reading out the texts of a lovesick idiot to make himself smile.

"I love how much you care and worry over everyone, even people who you don't really know, who don't even really like you back. But I hate how willing always you are to get into trouble on their behalf, because I hate when you get hurt. There's been so many times when I've wanted to just punch you for being so kind to people who don't even deserve it."

Keith paused, as he heard Lance get up. Great, he was going, wasn't he? What a fucking idiot he was for trying, for even hoping he could-

Lance stood in front of him, eyes wide and watery.

"This better not be a prank," he said quietly.

"I wouldn't lie about this. About you."

Lance took a deep breath... and then smiled. It was a big, bright, brilliant smile that made Keith's breath hitch.

"Then Keith Kogane, that was the best thing that's ever come out of that stupid mouth of yours."

"Hey, what's that supposed-"

Lance elegantly plucked the phone of his hands, chucked it on the couch along with his fidget cube, and took a deep forward.

He was close enough for Keith to count every individual freckle on Lance's face, to see every eyelash, to see those soft lips he had dreamed out many a time, to see Lance's blush.

"It means... I like you too."

Before he had time to process that, Lance leaned forward and kissed him.

Lance's lips were full and soft, and Keith knew this was the closest thing to heaven on earth. They were hesitant and sweet, and Keith was getting drunk on it.

He wrapped one arm around that slim waist, and the other tangled it in those soft curls, earning him a quiet groan.

"That's playing dirty," Lance mumbled against his lips.

Keith just chuckled as Lance's hands slid up his chest and laced behind his neck.

"Deal with it."

He pulled Lance even closer, letting the warmth sink through his skin and warm his bones. But eventually, they had to break apart for air.

Lance rested his forehead against Keith's breathing heavily, and Keith couldn't help but grin. He'd done that, he'd made Lance like that, him. He laughed quietly at that giddy thought, wrapping both arms around Lance's waist.

"Okay... so that just happened," Lance giggled, "Does this mean that we're... dating?"

"Yes," Keith instantly replied, before adding on, "If you want to."

"No, I just said I liked you and kissed you because I didn't want to date you-" Lance rolled his eyes, and for once Keith wasn't offended by it "-I want to. I really want to."

"G-Good."

"So, boyfriend, want to get away from Shiro's prying ears?"

Keith's heart skipped a beat at that, and he didn't even care when Shiro began to loudly complain. Boyfriend, he was officially Lance's boyfriend. And Lance's was his. Was he dreaming? No. He couldn't be. Shiro wouldn't be here if it was a dream.

"Bedroom?" Keith suggested.

"Sounds good," Lance chucked before stealing a quick, soft kiss.

"Keep the door open," Shiro yelled.

Keith blushed, Lance laughed, and Shiro complained. This, Keith decided as he pulled his new boyfriend into his room, was the life.

No.

They landed on his bed laughing, wrapped in each other's arms, kissing like they had all the time in the world. This was the life.


End file.
